Not How It Works
by Stormplains
Summary: AU: Western. Rogue ran from home and arrived in the town of Xavier 10 years ago. Now in a town where nothing is quite what it seems she has to find a way to survive gangs of bandits, gunshots, and hiding under the disguise of a man. Things get more complicated with the arrival of a man named Logan, and a powerful level of attraction to a Brotherhood bandit.
1. Oasis

**Disclaimer: The X-Men and all related characters are property of Marvel.**

Alright ya'll. This is a response to joriholic73's Super Challenge of Obscurity Challenge. These were the rules:

1. Romance has to be one of the genres. (If you've read my stuff, most of the time it's interwoven in, but I'll try to bring it more to the forefront in a few chapters)

2. Obscure pairing. (WARNING! This is slash. If it makes you uncomfortable, bye. That's for visiting, maybe you'd like D-Factor instead)

3. Whatever other genre I want. He challenged us to use a Western. (I figured, what the hell? Why not? I'm not gonna say I'm good at it. It's just a new taste of the X-Men. Wild west. Wooo!)

4. And songfics are allowed. (Maybe a chapter will be based off a song, but I don't do a ton of this)

So. This is more of a "un-writers block" story. The chapters are shorter, the story is shorter. I'd like to think it's unique, the idea. But we'll see I guess. It is AU in setting and character association, but with powers. If I capture a few in the bizarreness I'll be thrilled. But mostly this is for joriholic73 to entertain him. I don't know if he's gotten any other challenge acceptances.

And more so: General Disclaimer: This is rated T for- blood, violence, inferred drinking, cross-dressing, lesbians, minor racial issues (as it is the 1830s), and death (implied and not). Any of this makes you uncomfortable, I apologize.

* * *

**Oasis**

_Ten years ago…_

A child ran stumbling through the desert, looking for an oasis. The sun beat down on the dry, dusty ground, and the child scrambling over the ground. No breeze stirred the dust, the only movement of dirt came from the kid's feet.

The kid was covered head to toe in clothing, only their face was visible. Their face was fine-boned, with a cleft chin, covered in long-dried sweat and smudged dirt. Emerald eyes shone brightly, despite the exhaustion in the rest of their body. The kid wore a dust and sweat stained, long-sleeved white shirt, a coarse brown jacket on top. The trousers they wore were a lighter brown than the jacket, and were strapped around the kid's scrawny waist with a leather belt. They wore flimsy, worn, leather boots. Brown leather gloves were on their hands. A straw hat was on the child's head, keeping the sun off their filthy face.

The child stumbled over a rock and landed face down in the dirt, their hat falling off. The lack of a hat revealed short, messy, auburn hair, with bleak white streaks. With their hat off it was clear the kid couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. It appeared as though the child was a boy, but that is what she wanted.

The kid's head lifted off the ground and they peered ahead, the heat making the air wavy. They swallowed hard. There were gates ahead.

A town.

The kid gasped, and scrambled upright, new energy pumping through her veins. After weeks fending for herself, finally she had found her oasis.

There were two men at the gates on either side of the posts. One was tall, blonde and thin, the other was a tad shorter with black hair, bulkier build, and glasses. Both wore similar clothing, flannel shirts, jeans, boots, and belts with guns slung on their hips. The blonde also wore a long trench coat, while his partner wore a bandana around his neck.

When the child was nearly forty feet from the gate, the blonde one drew his gun and casually pointed it at her.

"Stop where you are, boy!" He called. Sweat and stubble glimmered in the bright sun.

The kid skidded to a halt, breathing hard. _So close._

"State your business!"

"Oh come on Warren-" His partner started.

The blonde shook his head. "Quiet Hank, we've had enough trouble around here." He turned his attention back to the kid. "You! Kid! What's your name?"

She said nothing, but shook her head.

"Eh, come off it. Your _name_." When the kid still didn't answer, a smile grew on the man's face. "A runaway. We got ourselves a rogue runaway."

His partner straightened his glasses on his face. "Well, welcome to the town of Xavier."

* * *

_Present Day, 1830, Xavier_

Rogue sat at the bar in the local tavern, loosely holding a now empty bottle. It had been a long time since she had ran to the town of Xavier, and was happy she had. Adjusting to life there, not only as an independent citizen, but also as a man had been more work than she had expected at her naïve age of twelve, but so far she had been successful.

Part of adapting was acquiring a soft, low voice to pass herself off as a male. Luckily she did not develop much, and apart from binding her chest every day, her appearance remained to seem as that of a slim man. Unfortunately she still hadn't figured out how to fake the appearance of stubble nor to grow any so she dealt with vicious slander from the men in town.

But, she knew how to efficiently teach a lesson.

The town of Xavier was home to many strange characters, many of those with bizarre abilities. The founder himself, Charles Xavier, was rumored to be able to read minds. It was safest to assume that everyone could do something bizarre, just to be safe. For the most part, citizens of the town didn't have too much trouble with each other, and Charles Xavier could put to rest a disagreement with only words. The biggest worry was the hordes of bandits that roamed that part of the country. But with bizarre abilities, the townspeople could fend for themselves very efficiently.

Rogue waved at the barman, tipping her empty bottle up, the signal for another. He nodded and dug around his stores for an additional for the classic customer.

She leaned back in her tall chair, tugging her gloves on tighter. She was one of those with strange abilities. After the accident that sent her running she knew to keep her skin covered up.

Her clothing was eerily similar to those she arrived in, but she had upgraded her hat to one of the typical "cowboy" hats worn around town. Her hat currently sat on the counter next to her, leaving her short, messy hair free.

"How goes it Rogue?" The barman asked, as he sat down a new bottle for her and scooped up the old one. He grinned goofily, shaking a hand through his sandy brown hair.

"Just fine, Bobby. Anyone interestin'?" She asked, taking a long swallow of her drink.

"Nah, the usual." The barman replied, turning to place the empty bottle in a bin with others.

Suddenly the door swung open. The buzzing chatter died down as a short, bulky man walked in. All eyes followed him and he stalked up to the bar and sat next to Rogue.

_He_ was new.

The newcomer grunted, fixing his stormy blue eyes on the barman. "Hey kid, how about a drink?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Sure. Whaddya want?"

The man looked over at his bar mate, Rogue. "Whatever he's havin'."

"Coming right up."

The man shifted in his seat and set down his hat on the counter, revealing blue-black hair that stuck out from his head. Long side-burns trailed down his face, joined by rough stubble.

He turned around to look at the others in the tavern. "Well, what are ya lookin' at, bub? Don't mind me." He grumbled, and turned back around.

Slowly the noise rumbled back to normal levels.

The barman returned with the newcomer's bottle. He set it down in front of him and stood there for a few moments silently. Then he spoke. "So, what brings you around here?"

"Passin' through." The man grunted, picking up the bottle and flicking the lid off with his thumb. The cap spun in the air and he snatched it out of the air with ease.

"You gotta name?"

The man paused in his drink and looked up slowly. "Logan."

The barman nodded. "I'm Bobby. Bobby Drake. This I'm guessing is you're first time in Xavier."

"Yup. Brilliant you are." Logan grunted.

"Well a piece of advice, watch your step. A lot of dangerous people around here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Not kiddin'." The barman said sagely, nodding his head.

The man chuckled, looking sideways at Rogue. "Lemme guess, people like this sweet little toothpick."

Rogue sneered at him, but Bobby defended her faster than she could speak. "Watch it. He's a tough one."

The man laughed. "Yeah right."

"Runaway Rogue here, he can drop a man with a single touch."

Logan nearly choked on his drink, and set it down hastily. He looked at Rogue bewildered. "Look at 'im. I could break him in half!"

Rogue tugged at her gloves nonchalantly. "And Ah could drop ya with mah pinky."

He studied her carefully, most likely sizing her up. Rogue shrugged and gulped down half of her drink. She set it back down at met his eyes.

"We'll see about that." He muttered darkly. He turned to the barman. "What about the rest of these guys?" He gestured around to the tavern. "Might as well have an idea of who not to bump into before I leave."

The barman pointed out a table in the corner. Two men sat at it.

"That there's the sheriff and his deputy." He pointed to the man with light brown hair and a star on his chest. He wore a pair of glasses that glinted red. "That one's the sheriff, man by the name of Scott Summers." The barman pointed to the other one, a man bundled up completely in clothing, his hat still on and a red bandana pulled up to just under his eyes, which peered out pure gold. "His deputy's some immigrant. A German named Kurt Wagner. " The barman leaned in closer. "Never shows his face, that one. He operates more at night, and don't doubt he can move fast. Even though he's covered head to toe, that clothing's the most lightweight there is."

Logan grunted. "Who else?"

Bobby nodded to the table next to the sheriff. Two women sat there, both in dresses typical of the day. One had fiery red hair, the other brown. The red haired one was considerably taller, the other was rather petite.

"The redhead there is the sheriff's girl, Jean Gray. Her parents send her cash every month. The other one, the little slight one, is Katherine Pryde. Woo boy, a fiery little spit if I've ever seen one. Her family moved her a few years back, and trust me, she can take care of herself." The barman winked at Rogue. "And the pretty thing's had her eyes on my boy Rogue here since she came." He laughed. "But Rogue thinks himself a gentleman, keeps here close as a friend, but no closer than that."

Rogue flushed, and took another swallow to busy herself.

Katherine was a pretty girl, but Rogue wasn't sure how she'd react when the "boy" she had eyes for turned out to be a girl as well. Besides, not like she could compete with—

"Piotr Rasputin. A Russian." The barman continued. He was pointing at a huge strongman sitting in a corner by himself. "He works at the railroad, and does whatever other odd jobs he can. Quiet guy, but he could pound the daylights out of you in his sleep."

Logan held up his hand. "Alright, alright. I get it. People here mean business." He pointed his thumb at Rogue. "Even if the sissies don't look it."

Rogue set her bottle down carefully, despite her rising anger. This man was starting to strike a nerve with her.

Bobby chuckled nervously, looking from Rogue to the newcomer. He was saved from having to intervene again by another customer coming up to the bar, he went over to attend to them.

The original two sat in silence for several minutes before Logan spoke up again. "So, tell me about this town of yers."

Rogue rocked her drink back and forth as she answered. "Town was founded by a man named Charles Xavier, it was named aftah him. We get all sorts of strange characters, some arrive on their own, some are invites of Xavier."

"Tell me more about this man."

She eyed him suspiciously. Like anyone else in the town she was protective of Xavier, he was a good man. "He's the mayor now. Used to have a wife and kid, but they left a year aftah I came. The man has an African woman and her niece or somethin' stayin' with him."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "A slave?"

"Nah," she shook her head, "the man's too good for that. Both of 'em are free."

"Huh… 1830 and we got two free slaves livin' with the mayor." He paused as he scratched his chin. "What about you? How'd you end up here? Invitation?"

"Drake said I was a runaway, dinnit he?" Rogue replied. The man nodded. "Well I was a runaway. Left home when I was twelve."

"Oh really, why did ya?" Logan asked, obviously curious.

Rogue picked up her bottle and drank slowly for several long moments. Setting it down, she replied. "I killed a man."

* * *

**A/N: Don't expect regular updates. But since it's summer I'll try for once a week. If you like my writing style feel free to check out D-Factor.**


	2. Hotel

**Disclaimer: The X-Men aren't mine, they're Marvel's. But everything's been re-imagined to fit in this strange Western-world.**

**Author's note: **Sorry.

Alright, I'm back to this story. I apologize as my focus was on D-Factor and I developed some awful writer's block. I didn't quite know where I would go with this chapter, but I figured it out.

Just to clear one thing up: The chapters should normally go through a cycle of slight 3rd person POV of Rogue-Logan-Scarlet Witch. So as Logan thinks Rogue is a guy, she is _he_. It's kinda like Deryn in Leviathan, every time it's Alek's POV she's a he. Should help to see who's POV it is too. Because there most likely will be times when the chapters don't follow the cycle or are hashed together POV scenes.

* * *

**Hotel**

The gruff man nearly choked on his drink.

Logan stared in disbelief at the young man in front of him. There was no way in hell that this kid, who wasn't even fit to use to clean his teeth, had killed anyone. Especially not at the age of twelve. If the kid was skinny now at twenty-two, Logan could only imagine how twig-like they were at twelve.

Sputtering, he set down his bottle roughly. "You're kiddin'."

"Nope." The kid replied with such calmness Logan almost wanted to believe him.

The older man frowned and stuck a finger at Rogue. "Now don't lie to me, bub. I can smell a lie."

Rogue raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Well do you smell one?"

Logan grit his teeth and turned away. "No." He grunted.

He ignored the quiet snickering from his drinking partner and watched the barman interacting with the other customers and scrubbing down the counter with a dusty rag.

The barman was just as old as Rogue from what he could tell. Just as clean-shaven as well, though Logan felt like the man sitting next to him had no need to shave. But what made them different was the sense of cleanness. Bobby had no dirt smudging his face or hands, and his clothing was relatively clean, minus sweat from the heat. Rogue, on the other hand, was covered head to toe in the dusty dirt from outside, his boots caked in mud and straw, all of his clothing worn and stained with age. Rogue was an adventurous type, as far as Logan guessed, perhaps he could help him out, wouldn't be afraid to get his hands… _well gloves rather_, dirty.

Bobby laughed at a joke from a young blonde man at the far side of the bar, and moved on to grab a glass.

"Hey Drake! Ice this time!" The costumer belittled good-humoredly.

The barman nodded his head dramatically, muttering something that sounded like "Yes my lord", and turned back around. He slammed down a glass filled with cubed ice.

Logan raised an eyebrow, he hadn't seen the man go to the ice box. He continued to watch interested as the man turned to his shelves with his stores of drinks to get what the customer wanted.

It was then he realized Rogue was watching the barman as well.

"Did you just see-?"

"Yep. Don't stare now." Rogue muttered. Logan whirled around at him. "How long do you plan on staying here?"

Logan blinked at the out-of-place question. "Uh, a few days at the least, a month or so at the most."

"Then don't worry about it. People do strange things here. Best ta just shake it off."

The gruff man was sure his jaw was hanging open, but he found it hard to close it. So he wasn't the only one.

He wasn't alone.

Rogue slammed down his bottle and wiped his mouth across his sleeve. "Well come on, I'll show ya where the hotel is."

"What?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "Would ya rathah stay in the stables? The hotel's right across the way. Good room's a nickel a night, yar average room's three cents."

Logan grunted in agreement and stood from his stool, tossing his coins onto the counter. As he stood the entire room went silent and all eyes drew to him like he was… well like he was a stranger in a small town.

"Come on, kid." He grumbled. He looked up and glared at the barman. "Coins are all there. Keep the change."

With that he strode out of the tavern, placing his hat back on his head. Rogue followed close behind. As soon as they were both out of the building the noise started back up inside the tavern.

"Wow, always so homey?" Logan grunted, squinting against the harsh sunlight.

"Nah, only to the guys who show up with no warnin'. We ain't to partial to mystery men. Too many camps of bandits, we gotta be careful who we trust."

The two walked toward the hotel. It was just across the way from the tavern. It must have been about three floors high, possibly with a basement, which was impressive. Why or how a town this small had gotten such an impressive hotel was beyond Logan's understanding. It was white wood and brown brick, topped with a flat roof, several chimneys, and a small rectangular extension that had a coned roof on top. The extension had a faded circle on it as if there was once a large clock that rested on it. The windows were dusty on the outside, but there was a young and very tan man cleaning them from the outside, clinging to the ledges on the outside of the building with his feet. It still seemed rather precarious, but the teenager seemed to take no mind, a faint whistling reached Logan's ears.

"This town is so strange." The man muttered.

"Seems that way, don't it?" Rogue nodded. "But it's pretty nice when ya've lived here for a while. Everyone really takes ya in."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, we look out for each othah. Hafta when we deal with the Brotherhood Bandits every othah day." There was a tone of dark humor in the young man's voice.

"Brotherhood Bandits?" Logan questioned. There was something in the name that sounded familiar… like he'd heard it before… but he couldn't remember who'd said it… There was one of his problems, a lot of his memory was fuzzy at best. The most he could remember was he hated a man by the name of Creed. _Sabretooth._ He'd seen the man a few months ago and was tracking him through the wilderness, when Logan had come up to this town of Xavier that morning.

_That's it!_ Creed had mentioned something about a brotherhood. Logan thought he meant something related to monks, but this would make more sense. The man was violent, blood-thirsty, and had a talent for destruction. Brotherhood Bandits. It seemed like something made for the man.

"Yeah. A bunch of trouble makers that camp out a few miles out of town. Mostly interested in thievin' and messin' with us, but they've also taken a likin' to shootin' up the town from time to time, and the occasional kid-nappin' and child-snatchin'."

"Child-snatchin'?"

Rogue's face became overcast. It might have just been the balcony that they just walked under in approaching the front doors of the hotel, but the shadow was so dark it seemed to be mental as well.

"Yeah, Kit-"

"Kit?"

Rogue's face turned red, and he coughed slightly. "Hem, well Kitty. Kitty and I grew up with this kid Lance. They stole him away when we was about eighteen. Thought they'd killed him. He was gone for months, left behind a lot of blood and destruction… but no. He joined the Brotherhood." His voice turned hard, and went up in pitch as though it was strained. His fists clenched at his sides and he stopped directly in front of the doors to the hotel. "Make no mistake, Lance Alvers was brain-washed. When they took him… they changed him. And now he's no friend of ours."

Logan frowned. He wasn't one for comfort, but the kid was greatly disturbed by whatever memory he was reliving. "You… you were close to this guy?"

Rogue got a long-off look in his emerald green eyes. "One of my best friends. I… I know that was four years ago… but sometimes events just stick with ya. Time moves fast here in Xavier… it doesn't seem like that long ago that he stood beside us."

"I'm sorry." Logan grunted. As best as he could manage.

Rogue shrugged and opened the door to the hotel, sweeping his arm around and gesturing for the man to enter. As Logan walked in, the kid cleared his throat, and this time when he spoke his voice was lower again, without the strained tone. "Well, here ya go. The Xavier Hotel." He pointed toward a desk to the side where a tall blond man stood. "Check in there with Warren. Try not to destroy yar room, Warren doesn't like that, nor does Roberto."

"Who?"

"Ah, ya'll meet 'im latah I'm sure. He was the kid cleanin' the windows outside."

"Right." Logan rubbed his head. He was learning too many names too fast. "Well thanks, kid. I got it from here."

Rogue nodded. "Cool. See ya 'round." With a simply good-bye, the young man turned and left, ruffling his messy hair as he went before stepping back out into the blinding sun and sliding on his hat.

Logan turned to the interior of the hotel. The lobby was decorated simply, the floors were shiny, well-kept, light wood, the walls a mix of the brown brick from outside and plain walls painted warm colors. To the left was the check-in desk Rogue had pointed out; it was a plain wooden counter that wrapped around three sides. Behind the desk were wooden block-cubbies with various pieces of mail and small packages, keys hung on short pegs beside the boxes. Beside the cubbies was a doorframe, leading back into what Logan assumed was an office for the man sitting behind the desk.

The man appeared to be bored out of his mind. His hair was short and blonde, with short side burns extending down to frame his face. He was clean-shaven as well, though many of the other residents in the town were not. He wore a clean red shirt, jeans, and a long, brown trench coat. His blue eyes were dull as he stared at the book in his hands; his legs were kicked up on the desk in front of him.

The man sighed and set down his book.

"Well?" Warren looked up at the newcomer. "Are you going to check in? Or do I have to get the runaway back in here to assist you?"

Logan grunted and walked up to the desk. "I'd like a room."

"As many do." The man replied, setting his book off to the side and pulling out a binder from under the counter. "Name?"

"Logan."

"Logan?"

"Just Logan."

Warren narrowed his eyes slightly and looked up at him. A look that said _Oh, you're one of _those _guys._

The man behind the counter sighed, but wrote _Logan_ in the book. "Do you know how long you'll be staying?"

"No. Can I pay by day?"

"That is an option." Warren stated. "Would you like one of our exclusive rooms, or—"

"I'll take the average one." Logan interrupted. He didn't think he could handle anything too nice. He'd lived on the road the last few months, so he was finding comfort in dirt.

Warren nodded, like it didn't surprise him. "It's three cents a night, you can cast a lot in for a bath, and we can fit you in the schedule."

Logan blinked at the words coming out of the other man's mouth. It was almost foreign to him. "Uh… yes."

"Alright. Schedule is up on the wall by the stairs." The man nonchalantly pointed to the right. "Respect the chart. Be nice to the other residents. Try not to track too much dirt in."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You don't love this job, do you?"

Warren looked up to him with another bored expression. "Gee, could you tell." He stood and turned around to grab a key off a peg. "Room 10." He handed the key to Logan. "No, I don't love this, but I have to have a normal job when I'm not on patrol."

"Patrol?"

"I'm guessing Rogue mentioned the bandits, he looked upset when he came in here." Logan hid some of his surprise, it hadn't seemed like Warren had been paying any attention to them. "We have two men who stand guard at the town gates, you passed them when you came in, I'm sure."

Logan nodded. He remembered being questioned quickly as he entered by a man named Hank and some other guy with light brown hair. Hank seemed more easy going, and let him in somewhat quickly.

"They send up the alarm if it's needed." Warren said. He paused. "So if you heard some loud screeching, you should decide if you'll stand and fight or if you'll hide it out."

Logan frowned. "I'll help out."

Warren studied the man carefully. "…I have a feeling that Xavier will want to meet you eventually." He paused again, before sitting down. "Well… enjoy your room. It'll be on the second floor."

"Thank you."

Logan turned and walked away toward where Warren had pointed out the stairs. He opened his door easily. As he walked further into his room he studied his key.

He nearly dropped it.

Instead of having a number _10_ on it, there was the Roman Numeral _X_.

Violent flashes of memory entered his thoughts, causing him to grip his head in pain. He was barely aware of roaring out as his head felt like it was splitting.

A doctor, with harsh metal instruments lining the walls, leather straps holding him down, a strange, silvery, bubbling liquid, intense, searing pain beyond anything he had ever known… he cried out again.

His vision was returning, etching its way back into his eyes through blurry, fiery shapes. As it returned fully he found himself on the floor. He looked down at his shaking hands, recalling the sharp pains he felt there. His eyes widened. Three, thin, and extremely sharp blades extended from the backs of his hands.

He sat up shakily and leaned against the bed he found himself near. Blood trickled down the backs of his hands. Logan took several deep breaths and willed the claws to retract. He was left with three long gashes on the backs of his hands, which he watched heal before his eyes.

Logan sighed, and closed his eyes.

Perhaps there were some things he didn't want to remember.

* * *

**A/N:** I always get so excited when I get an email saying "new follower". But it confuses me when it's this story. Cuz I don't know how some of you guys found this when it hasn't been updated in a month and doesn't pop up on the browse XME page often. But I love it still! This story's different than what I write normally so it's great to see different people becoming interested in it.

I'll try to get another chapter soon.

Next you'll get to see a bit from the Brotherhood Bandits stand point. And I'm sure you all want to see the Western versions of our Brotherhood mutants.


	3. Jewel

**Disclaimer: The characters of the X-Men and Brotherhood are not mine, but Marvel's. They are simply reimagined by me.**

**Author's note: **There ya go.

So excuse excuse, writer's block, paper, writer's block, school. Please enjoy this chapter, 3rd person POV of Wanda.

I'll explain where inspiration for the Brotherhood's looks came from at the end.

* * *

A girl of about twenty-two sat on a bale of hay, twisting a silver ring on her pointer finger. Wanda let her mind drift as she waited with the other members of the Brotherhood Bandits for her father and the woman called Mystique. She wore a long red trench coat over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of slender black boots stretching up to her knees. A silver cross pendent dangled from her neck, and her fingers were decorated with a number of other rings, though none seemed to have a rhyme or reason for being there. Her hair was jet black and cropped short. Her face was pale and reflected a ruthless air. The barn she and the others waited in was growing warmer with every moment. The air was hot, stuffy, and foul. Wanda was able to dismiss it all by mere power of mind.

The sun slanted down through dusty rectangular windows in the barn. In the light, danced specks of dirt and dust, each swaying and swirling to its own time, drifting slowly to the dirt floor. Other bales of hay were strewn around in a hasty circle in the center of the barn, where the floor was flat and clear. Horse stalls lined the walls on three sides; the fourth was a huge sliding door, currently closed. The only light came from the high windows on the walls and from a rough hole in the roof.

All the individuals in the barn seemed impartial to the dirt, heat, and lack of light.

A large man with short blonde hair sat leaning against several hay bales across the circle from Wanda, his meaty hands folded over his denim overalls, and his large hat pulled low to shield his equally large face. His chest moved slowly and every few moments there was a quiet rumble from his form.

Another young man sat on a bale of hay one over from the girl, absent-mindedly playing with a small knife. His dark brown hair was long and tied back behind his head, his dark tan skin shadowed with dried earth, his eyes overcast with boredom. He wore a rough brown jacket with its sleeves torn off, the collar flipped up, framing his neck and chin. The shirt underneath was white, but old and worn, appearing to be cream-colored. Over his head, he wore a navy bandana that covered his entire forehead but a small space above his brows, and that slicked back with his dark hair, knotting underneath his ponytail. On his hands, he wore leather gloves, hazardously cut, the fingers hewn off at hasty angles. His jeans were ripped at the knees, and his tanned boney joints tuck straight through the blow-outs.

There was a creak from the rafters, but no one looked up as a teenager hopped onto a dusty beam. He smiled mischievously and looked down at the others, four total below, three males and a female. The boy in the rafters ruffled his short, greasy, brown hair, causing it to stick up at odd angles. He wore a band across his forehead, separating his hair from his skin, on top of which was a pair of engineer goggles. He wore a well-worn denim jacket over a faded blue shirt. There was a red bandana around his neck, and ripped jeans on his legs. His skin was a pasty white; his eyes were large on his face, glowing fainting yellow in the shadowy barn.

He leapt down from the rafters and landed softly next to the only female in the barn. She didn't bat an eye as he landed, but wrinkled her nose in disgust. He smelled worse than the horses.

He opened his mouth to speak and she shoved him away.

"Leave me alone, Todd."

Todd mimicked receiving a blade to the heart and fell over backwards.

Wanda rolled her bright blue eyes and folded her arms over her chest, resuming her near-meditative state of mind.

They boy on the ground finally scrambled upright as he came to the conclusion, no one cared for his antics.

"Well gee Witch, why you gotta be like that?" He whined, standing upright, which for him involved heavy slouching. When she didn't respond to him, he walked over to her and leaned in again. "Hey, what's go you in a bunch?"

"Oh leave Wanda alone, Todd." The last man in the room said. He had been pacing through their circle for several long minutes, and had managed to dig a small rut in the dirt floor.

He had similar pointed features to the girl, evidence of the two being twins. He wore a crisp light blue shirt and well-worn brown pants, his jacket was slung over one of the stall doors carelessly. A pair of goggles, similar to Todd's, were strung around his neck. He had no adornment, unlike his sister, and his appearance was cleaner than anyone else there. His shirt was tucked in carefully and his silver belt shined even in the dark light. His face was clean and pale, with a pointed nose and icy blue eyes. His ears nearly laid flat against his skull, and his stark white hair was whipped back as if from a fast horse chase.

The young man continued to pace, pausing only for a moment to kick the dozing man into wakefulness. The man woke with a snort and an angry grumble.

Wanda rolled her eyes as the man sat up. Fred Dukes had a bad habit of drinking too much in the night and sleeping too much in the day.

"Why aren't they _here_ yet?!" The pacing man said irritably. His words emerged from his mouth in a hasty manner, as if even speaking them took too much of his time.

"Relax, Pietro." Wanda said from her seat, not looking at her brother, but at Todd. She held up three fingers as a warning for him. Todd smirked, standing firm. She lowered one and he yelped as he hopped back up to the rafters after a blue bolt of energy hit his ear.

Turning her attention back to her brother, she sighed. "Sit down, Pietro. You digging a line in the dirt won't help any. You're freaking me out."

Pietro halted, and whirled around to respond with a snarky come-back, when the barn door slid open. Everyone froze. The light pouring in from the door temporarily blinded its inhabitants. At first only the two silhouettes were visible, but as the door slid closed behind them their features became clear.

Wanda knew who they were before they stepped in, but she was interested in why they called them there.

It was a man and a woman. The woman was thin and muscular; her clothes fit tightly to shape her. She wore a black sleeveless buttoned shirt, long dark jeans, high black boots and a belt decorated with white skulls, one at the buckle, and two along her waist. As the woman stepped farther in, her skin and hair color shifted. Her light tan skin darkened into blue and her blonde ponytail flared into a fiery orange. She smirked as she came into the light as looked at the young people around her.

The man next to her was dressed in a neat suit. He was older than the woman he came in with, with broad shoulders and silver-grey hair. His face was square and assertive, and he held much knowledge behind his pale blue eyes and casual smile.

Wanda was excited upon seeing his smile, finally, they were going to get to do something.

"Magneto!" Pietro exclaimed. First in surprise, then in annoyance. "Magneto, where have you been? You wanted us here an hour ago. It's not like we can use this barn for very long. I can't have the people of Xavier snooping around here."

The man waved his hand to calm Pietro. "We are well aware of the sacrifices you make to allow us to stay with you occasionally and meet here, Quicksilver." Magneto motioned for them all to sit. "But what we are after this time is well worth the risk."

Todd fell from the rafters and landed with a soft _mmph_ in a crouch. He straightened up and asked a question as he sat. "That big of a prize?"

"Oh yes. This is much more than our normal heist of shiny objects to entertain and money to get by with." He paused. "And because of that, it will require much more planning." Magneto gestured to the woman beside him. "The lovely Mystique was able to… acquire… information of its whereabouts from an expert on worldly legends."

Mystique narrowed her yellow eyes and smirked. "He enjoyed relaying the information, but he needed a bit of a rest afterwards."

They laughed.

Magneto settled them down. Wanda's hands twitched with anticipation. "Now, what we are looking for is a jewel, one that will be able to expand our powers so we may take what we please. But, we must do this strategically. It is in the town of Xavier—"

"Of course it is," The large Fred Dukes grumbled. "Only time there's ever somethin' worth takin', it be in that damned town."

Magneto nodded grimly. "Unfortunately yes." He raised his hand and a metal chest plate and helmet floated down from the rafters. He removed his suit jacket and stretched his arms out, allowing the chest plate and helmet to fall into place. Both gleamed a dark red in the dim light. "Now listen carefully to what we will do…"

* * *

Wanda pulled her horse up alongside her brothers. The pair led the bandits, and now both came to a halt atop a ridge overlooking the town of Xavier. Pietro's barn was on the outskirts of the town, the bandits had looped around, riding for a length through the wilderness before arriving at the overlook.

Pietro was the only one of the Brotherhood bandits who was not a mere outlaw. He lived and worked within the town of Xavier on a normal basis, but had been drawn to the idea of wealth and power by his sister. The two maintained a false estranged relationship in the public eye, but a very close one privately.

Wanda looked over at her brother, noting his nervousness. He had rubbed black paint through his tell-tale white hair in order to disguise himself. He was the only one of the bandits who truly had something to loose every time the Brotherhood went to Xavier. His hair was jet black now, like his sister's, and he had put his dusty jacket back on. He slid his goggles on over his face and turned to look at her.

"You ready?" He asked.

Wanda nodded. Pietro jumped down next to her and they turned back to watch the approaching Brotherhood Bandits.

"Remember, bandit names only."

Pietro stretched his arms above his head and turned back to face the town. His face was grim. Wanda watched him and in a blink he was gone, a cloud of dust following his path.

The girl spurred her horse and followed after, weaving down the sharp hill to keep her and her horse unhurt. When they reached the base, the wind created by the speed her horse ran whipped her hair back. A grin grew on her face as they raced toward the town gate. Already, she saw Pietro was engaged with the two guards at the gate; he zipped back and forth between the two, throwing punches and dodging blows.

Wanda struggled to see just who was at the gate, it looked like Hank McCoy and the young Ray Crisp. Hank pounced at Pietro, but like his code name "Quicksilver" suggested, he slipped out of the way in a flash, the larger man ending up covered in dirt on the ground.

His sister was there in the next instant, leaping off her horse, Vision, spin-kicking Ray in the head. The young man fell back, blood mixing in with his buzzed blonde hair. He stood up in a daze, pointing two fingers at Wanda and releasing a blast of lightning. Wanda ducked out of the way, rolling in close to the young man. She struck a blow on his collar bone and he dropped.

Turning around she watched Pietro kick Hank into the post of the town gate. There was a loud crack as the man's head hit and he slumped down. Pietro knelt beside the man and checked to see if he was breathing, seeing he was, he stood.

"Come on."

The two continued into the town, Wanda mounting her horse again. There was a loud wailing shriek, Xavier's alarm was going up.

People began running out of store fronts, homes, and the bank. The inhabitants of Xavier paused as the two bandits came to a halt. The sheriff, Scott Summers, and his deputy, Kurt Wagner, came to the front of the crowd.

The sun reflected off of sheriff Summer's red tinted glasses menacingly. "What are you doing here?"

Wanda responded. "Did you miss us?"

Scott grinned menacingly. "Let's skip the motions. Surrender or we fight."

"If we're skipping the motions, let's get to it."

"Yes, let's."

With that, the sheriff lifted his glasses off his eyes, a red beam of energy blasting toward the two. Pietro ran to the side, and Wanda's hands glowed blue, the blast being diverted into the sky.

The crowd of about twenty surged forward just as the ground rumbled and the remainder of the Brotherhood Bandits appeared. Todd jumped off the top of the hotel, landing in the middle of the crowd. Fred Dukes lumbered out from the alley beside the tavern, cracking his knuckles menacingly. The boy who had been playing with the knife in the barn, called Avalanche, was back by the town gate, his hand extended and his eyes rolled back into his skull. Magneto hovered above the bank, now fully dressed in red and black armor. Mystique was nowhere to be seen.

A chaotic fight ensued. Wanda sent Vision into a charge, scattering several before his hooves. She let him continue on, as she leapt off in the middle of the crowd. She heard disgusted cries and surprised exclamations, and she knew Todd AKA Toad was off to a fighting start.

She ducked a punch thrown by a young man and kicked him hard in the gut, sending him sprawling. Under her feet, she felt a small tremor. Knowing what was about to happen she jumped on the shoulders of the two individuals in front of her, vaguely she remembered the names as Kitty and Rogue. The ground shook dangerously and the two she was standing on fell forward.

When the ground stopped, Kitty literally slipped through Wanda's foot and rolled upright. The pretty girl was about her age, a few years younger, and she wore a strange mix of riding leggings and a thin weathered jacket. The man, Rogue, threw Wanda off, causing her to fall on her back. The two yanked her upright, and Rogue twisted Wanda's arm back behind her.

"Alright, don't move." He breathed. His voice was soft and menacing, but Wanda was unaffected by his growl. In a swift move she whirled around and kicked him into Kitty, him toppling on top of her and the two becoming tangled together.

Wanda turned her attention to the rest of the fight, striking, dodging, and hex bolting those around her. She saw one surprised man fall as the woman behind him struck a pressure point on his neck. The woman behind him smiled and morphed back into Mystique. Toad lay sprawled against a railing, a wound on his head soaking through his bandana and his jacket smoking.

Wanda frowned. Todd may be goofy, but he normally knew how to avoid getting seriously hurt. The Brotherhood had it a little easier, because their small numbers reduced their changes of collateral damage, but something was going wrong. Avalanche went flying through the air, crashing through the doors of the tavern, followed by the smashing of glass.

There was a snarl and a short man came into view, his blue-black hair sticking up crazily.

A berserker. A wildcard.

Wanda looked up above the bank to where Magneto had been. He hovered there with a frown, a metal box in one hand. He caught her eye and nodded.

It was time to go.

"Vision!" Wanda yelled over the dwindling crowd. The Brotherhood had managed their distraction, and took out several of the Xavier inhabitants in the process.

Completion of their goal and injuries dictated they leave.

Vision came galloping to Wanda, throwing his head and pushing some of the remaining fighters out of his way. As he came by, Wanda grabbed his reins and climbed on. She steered Vision near Todd's resting place and dragged him onto her saddle.

She saw Pietro dash into the tavern and emerge with Avalanche slung across his back. He looked at her, grim confusion on his face. She knew he too wondered who this wildcard was. He turned and beat a hasty retreat.

Fred Dukes saw the predicament and pounded the support beam on the front of an older building. The building began to toppled forward and he hustled after the other bandits.

Mystique and Magneto were simply gone.

* * *

At the top of the overlook, Pietro slung Avalanche onto his horse, and lifted Todd off of Wanda's. The twins didn't speak as they rearranged their teammates. Avalanche groaned and lifted his head up to look at the pair.

"Guys, that sucked." He grumbled.

"Shuttup Alvers." Pietro spat. "Can you sit up?"

The young man pulled himself into a sitting position, slinging his leg around. He grimaced and grasped his head. "Yeah, head might crack though."

"You don't have to go too far. Rendezvous at the shack." Pietro said softly, stroking his horse's head. "You can take the short route, the rest of us are running the diversions courses."

"The Blob, running?" Avalanche choked out. "I wish I could see that."

"Yeah, we all wish that. Now go!"

The two injured bandits took off at a break-neck pace.

Pietro turned to Wanda. She recognized how good of a leader he could be if given the chance. He smiled a little at her.

"Well sister, want the high road or the low road."

Wanda's lip curled up in disgust. The low road went alongside and through the shallow river nearby. "High road. You are welcome to get wet."

Pietro laughed. "I figured. See you at the shack."

He vanished in a flash, snaking off to the right. Wanda sighed, turning Visions reins and taking off for the left.

The high road navigated the high rocky outcrops and hills outside of Xavier. In the spring it was covered by thick grass and wildflowers, but at this point in the summer all the grass was dead and the ground dusty. After speeding toward the rocks, she slowed Vision's speed and allowed him to navigate the area himself. He knew it well.

They reached the top of a hill and Wanda heard the shattering of rocks below. Confused, she dismounted, letting Vision roam toward the small pool of water nearby, and went back to the edge of the cliff. A man on a spotted brown and white horse was following behind, nearly halfway up.

The man was wearing a hat on his head, a rough brown jacket around his shoulders. He glanced up and froze (though his horse didn't) when he saw Wanda's face over the ridge. His hat fell backwards off his head, revealing brown hair with a white streak in the front.

Wanda bolted upright and rushed back to her horse. She heard the clattering of hooves from below, the man in pursuit was pushing his horse to move faster up the ridge. It was dangerous, he might even kill them both.

As Wanda hauled herself into her saddle she heard the dreadful noise. The horse below panicked, a shrieking whinny tearing the air. The man cried out in such surprise his voice became shrill. There was the sound of sliding rock and flesh thudding against it.

Then silence.

The girl paused. She could take off right that instant, but something held her back. The man and or his horse could be very hurt.

Against her better judgment, she slid off her horse. Walking slowly, and preparing herself for a dreadful sight, she peered over the side.

The horse was shuffling nervously on a ledge that was just big enough to support it, shaking its head. About twenty feet below the horse, on another ledge, lay the man. He laid face down, cuts along his neck and face, his jacket ripped, revealing a long gash on his arm. One of his ankles bent funny, and the arm that wasn't bleeding was folded underneath him.

Wanda rose, and turned to leave.

Yet again, she stopped and went back to the ledge.

"What the hell am I doing?" She muttered as she climbed down.

Many painful minutes later she reached the man. On her way she escorted the horse to a wider ledge that it could figure out how to climb up to where Vision was. As she came alongside the man she knelt. Finally she recognized him, Rogue, the man who twisted her arm in the fight. They had met in several other skirmishes, but as to why he'd followed this time was a mystery.

Or maybe he'd been following all along, and this time had made it much farther.

He breathing was painful, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids. For a moment he opened them and stared at her, and a few words escaped his lips, again higher in pitch. Wanda wondered in the back of her mind if he'd landed on more appendages than just his arms and legs.

"W…what… nngh… Scarlet Witch…" He choked out, and then his eyes fell shut and he groaned.

"Vision!" Wanda yelled.

For some reason, she was going to help Rogue out. She felt a sudden urge to make sure he didn't die.

* * *

**A/N:** So here's the inspiration for the characters-

Wanda and Pietro's looks are mostly based off of the Evolution looks. Pietro wears goggles to keep dirt from his eyes, and has paint to dye his hair when they clash with Xavier.

Lance is partially based off of his Evolution look, but I could see no practical reason why he'd have a fishbowl on his head so it was changed to a bandana. His skin is darker here due to the idea he has been mainly living in the open and he always did have a little darker skin than the others in the cartoon.

Toad's look is a mix of his Evolution, comic book, and X-Men Destiny looks.

Blob is similar to his in Evolution as well, but his longer hair is more like his comic book self.

Mystique has part of her classic look, the skull belt, but her color scheme is more like her post-season 1 Evolution look.

Magneto is Magneto. He pretty much always looks like that (the purple is replaced by black leather, a decision separate from his classic looks).

**Next: Rogue awakens to find herself in the care of Scarlet Witch, but can't figure out why. Is there more to this girl than her bandit ways?**


End file.
